


Pandora’s Box (or Five Times Bill Adama Followed His Heart)

by zinke



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, five times fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-27
Updated: 2008-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinke/pseuds/zinke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When all else failed, Bill Adama followed his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pandora’s Box (or Five Times Bill Adama Followed His Heart)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for docladyblade for the LJ comm adama_roslin's Christmas in July exchange, who asked for a fic using the following prompt (which conveniently also works very well as a summary): "When all else failed, Bill Adama followed his heart".
> 
> The quote used at the beginning of the story is taken from the Greek poem _Works and Days_ by Hesiod. The poem tells the story of Pandora, whose curiosity leads her to open a jar given to her by Zeus, thus releasing all the evils of man into the world. By the time Pandora was able to replace the lid of the jar, only hope remained inside the vessel.
> 
> Many thanks, as always, go to caz963 and nnaylime for their suggestions, advice and support.

* * * *

Only Hope was left within her unbreakable house. She remained under the lip of the jar, and did not fly away.  
\- Hesiod, _Works and Days_

* * * *

As he enters the room, Bill is greeted by sights and sounds that have been all too absent these past few months – music and laughter, smiles and merriment – and he feels an unrealized weight lift from his chest. This – albeit brief – reminder of what they've been living and fighting for somehow makes all the suffering and uncertainty they've endured until now seem worthwhile.

Kara catches sight of him from her perch by the bar and elbows Lee in the side to get his attention. Lee turns and meets Bill's eyes for an uncomfortable moment before nodding in formal salutation while Kara waggles her fingers at him in a decidedly more playful greeting. Bill smothers the amused smile that is fighting to break across his face and instead bows his head in response before continuing his scan of the room. He can see Boomer and the Chief, trying – and failing – to make the dance they are sharing look casual; Doctor – now Vice President – Baltar holding court in a far corner, basking in the rapt attention of several young, starry-eyed women; Saul and Ellen, heads bowed close, whispering and laughing together over their drinks.

Eventually his gaze alights on the President – on Laura – sitting alone, removed from the hubbub of celebration. There is a contented flush on her cheeks that he finds becoming on her, a confidence shining in her eyes that he can't remember having been there before. She's finally coming into her own, and the realization makes him both proud and sad. He knows the personal cost of leadership all too well, and he can already see from Laura's wistful expression as she watches the carefree antics of those around her that she is becoming familiar with them as well. It's a sacrifice he wishes she did not have to make, and one which he resolves to not let her endure alone.

Bill makes his way through the throng to her table, and before he quite realizes what's happened, Laura's hand is resting comfortably in his and he is leading her onto the dance floor.

 _Protocol_ , his mind argues as he takes her hand in his own and begins to move; today is Colonial Day, and it's only fitting that he make such a gesture to the President of the Colonies. But as he pulls her just a little bit closer, Bill knows that this is something more than a fulfillment of duty; and when he feels her arm loop more securely around his neck, he wonders if it's something more for Laura as well.

* * * *

The light in her eyes dies instantly, and the sight knocks the breath from his lungs. There had been signs, of course: Billy's anxious glances if the Quorum Q&A ran too long, the increasingly frequent presence of the erstwhile Vice-President in meetings that had previously included only themselves, her unceremonious return of his book – that first gesture of friendship between them – but Bill had refused to acknowledge their implication. But now, to be unavoidably confronted with the awful truth – that she, after all these months of fighting insurmountable odds, has given up – is almost more than he can bear.

Unconsciously, his grip on the jeweler's box in his hand – tangible proof of her defeat – tightens like a vice, as if through strength of will and brute force alone he can destroy the malignancy that has brought them both to this point.

He's come to rely on her counsel – if he's honest with himself, he's relied on it ever since those first, awful days when she convinced him to take the second chance fate had offered them. And now, with this promotion, she is asking him to carry on in her stead, and he knows with a chilling certainty that he's not ready – or willing – to lead this fleet without her by his side.

Unsteadily, she rises from her seat, and Bill hurries to assist her, placing a steadying hand on her arm when her balance falters. Laura turns to face him, and as he shifts his grip to accommodate her, the tips of his finger and thumb inadvertently brush, betraying just how thin she's become in recent weeks. His first instinct is to be angry, to rail at gods he has never believed in for inflicting such a death on so strong and brilliant a woman. But when she meets his eyes, and he sees the unspoken apology written on her face, all he feels is a deep, wrenching grief.

His throat is uncomfortably tight and the words will not come, so he forces a smile instead, hoping it will be enough to comfort her. She cocks her head in response and he knows he's failed, but the gesture is so normal – playful, teasing and very reassuringly _her_ – that he is transported. His grin broadens of its own volition, and the weight on his heart lessens slightly with the realization that, though she may believe otherwise, he has not lost her quite yet.

Reaching out, Bill brushes his fingers along her jaw line, pausing to feel the steady, strong beat of her pulse beneath his fingertips before lifting her chin and bringing her gaze to meet his own. Intently, he watches as her expression shifts from regretful to uncertain, until finally a hint of color blooms on her pale cheeks, her eyes spark back to life and she too becomes caught in the moment.

His heart thrumming loudly in his chest, Bill leans in and tenderly, gratefully touches his lips to hers.

* * * *

The air is crisp and clear where his mind is foggy, his thoughts doughy and contented. He'd forgotten how good it was to feel the earth between his toes and the heat of the sun warming his skin; the circular months spent in orbit above New Caprica have left Bill feeling unsettled, restless – and the relief of being planet side – if only for these couple of days – is an unexpected and welcome pleasure.

The buoyant sound of Laura's laughter – something else he's missed these past weeks and months – draws his attention to where she is standing, conversing easily with of all people, Ellen Tigh. His surprise over her choice of companion is momentary however, quickly and soundly overcome by a sudden rush of longing as he takes note of the radiance of her hair in the setting sun, the gentle swell of her breasts above the low-cut neckline of her decidedly un-Presidential top, the uninhibited mirthful sparkle in her eyes. He's utterly captivated, and though his mind may be addled by alcohol and smoke, he is still enough himself – selfish, demanding, uncompromising – to know that he wants more of her, like this, and all to himself.

Engrossed as he is, it takes him several moments to realize that he's been caught staring; Laura is watching him, a bemused expression on her face as she quirks a questioning eyebrow at him. But rather than look away, he finds himself returning her suggestive smile and slowly begins to make his way through the crowd to her side.

Decidedly intoxicated – but on what he's no longer certain – Bill reaches out to rest his hand against the small of her back, feels a thrill when rather than step away she leans back, silently welcoming the contact. "You're looking relaxed, Admiral," she teases, offering him her glass. He takes it wordlessly, indulges in a long draught. He notices Ellen's Tigh's gaze dance back and forth between him and Laura speculatively – something about which he knows he should be concerned, although right now he can't bring himself to care – a moment before she takes her leave. As she passes him, Ellen brushes her fingers along Bill's arm, drawing his attention long enough for him to take note of her sly, shrewd grin, and then she is gone.

When he turns back, it is to find Laura giving him an amused, knowing look. "You really weren't kidding when you said that woman was nothing but trouble, were you?"

"Maybe," Bill replies absently, watching as the woman in question drags his second-in-command onto the dance floor and coaxes him into a clumsy waltz.

"Not much of a dancer, either," she remarks glibly as she watches the pair fumble through the steps.

The off-hand comment sparks something inside him, and Bill decides, just this once, to take action before he's had the chance to think the matter through. "Care to show them how it's done?" he asks, setting the now empty tumbler on a nearby table and hastily wiping the condensation from his hands before offering one to Laura.

Wordlessly and without hesitation, she slips her delicate fingers into his upturned palm, and he can see in the warmth of Laura's expression that she, too, is remembering a dance shared on another night of celebration what feels like a lifetime ago. Bill leads her onto the dais, blind to the eyes now upon them as he folds her securely into his arms and brings their clasped hands to rest against his chest. He savors the feel of her fingers threading through the untidy hair at the nape of his neck as they continue to move together in time to an unfamiliar melody.

Sometime later, when the music comes to a stop, Bill tries his best to convince himself he's ready to let her go. Laura, however, saves him the trouble, stepping out of the circle of his arms only long enough to link her hand with his. "C'mon," she murmurs quietly as she leads him off the dais, out of the glare of the halogen lights and the scrutiny of the other celebrants.

He doesn't bother to argue with her.

* * * *

As he watches the fleet jump away one ship at a time, Bill feels an unexpected chill race down his spine as he is again reminded of that first solo recon mission so many years ago. What he had neglected to tell Lee earlier was that while ultimately he had been able to overcome his fear, there had been so many moments – sitting alone with the blackness of space pressing in on him from all sides – that he'd nearly given in. It had only been the dread of returning to his ship to face the censure of his superiors and the contempt of his fellow officers that had kept him from doing so. Fear had overcome fear; he had completed his mission and moved on, risen through the ranks, always living in the shadow of that experience.

With a blinding flash Galactica disappears, and now there is no going back.

Then, as now, he had been desperate to prove himself. But whereas before he had wanted to garner the attention of his commanding officer and the respect of his peers, these many years later there is only one person whose approval he cares about, and that is his own.

Methodically he checks the console to be sure all systems are functioning normally before activating the auto-pilot and reaching for the duffle sitting next to him in the ECO's seat.

He quickly finds what he is looking for and, after adjusting his glasses, Bill carefully opens the book's charred cover and begins to read, finding solace in the familiar words and the memories they evoke.

In his mind's eye he can see them both, he sitting on his couch, book in hand and Laura stretched out next to him, barefoot, her head resting comfortably in his lap while he reads to her. Pausing to turn the page, he'd dropped his gaze to check on her only to find that her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even. He can remember carefully closing the book and setting it beside him before moving to gently brush back a stray lock of hair from where it had fallen across her cheek. The action had brought a tiny, contented smile to her lips, and a moment later he'd felt her hand close over his, pulling it down to rest just above her heart. "Don't stop," she'd murmured softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Smiling, he had retrieved the book with his free hand and continued the story.

And now, as Bill allows himself to drift, the fear and loneliness ebbs away; his breathing slows, falling into rhythm with the steady pulse of the DRADIS as he waits patiently for Laura's return.

* * * *

Laura's hand is reassuringly warm and solid in his as they slowly pick their way through the ruins, his eyes fixed on the rough white-capped waves of what appears to have once been a harbor. But this place provides no shelter and will offer them no safety.

And yet he can't let go. "Helo, Starbuck," he calls out, his voice booming clumsily through the noxious silence. "I want a recon deployment plan ready in two hours. We need to know who or what else is out there."

His officers share a meaningful glance before acknowledging his orders, and then slowly begin to make their way back through the rubble to the waiting ships. He can feel the confused, desperate gazes of the others on him, even as he hears D'Anna giving similar instructions to the nameless Eight that had accompanied them to the surface. To his surprise, the Cylon turns to him a moment later, looking determined and unaffected in a way Bill finds himself envying. "Admiral, with your permission, I'll have our pilots coordinate their search with Galactica."

It's still too new for him, this cooperation with those that had only months earlier been set on humanity's destruction, and it's all he can do to nod his approval to this creature that has helped to cause his people so much pain. As he watches the Eight set off after Helo and Kara, he feels Laura's hand leave his, only to take hold of his arm a moment later, her grip firm and comforting. Turning his head, Bill gives her a soft, grateful smile which she returns before refocusing her attention on the matter at hand. "D'Anna I think it might be best if you and I were to make a joint statement, to allay the people's fears."

The Cylon's incredulous gaze dances frantically between them both. "And what exactly do you propose we tell them?"

There's a long, pregnant pause before Laura replies in a broken whisper, "I don't know," and Bill feels the sound of it slice through him like a knife.

"Well, once you figure it out, Madame President," D'Anna hisses as she turns and stalks away, "you let me know."

Silently he watches as she makes her way to where Saul and his Six are standing hand in hand by the shoreline. There is an exchange of words and despite the distance Bill can read the disappointment on their faces as, together, they turn to leave.

He feels Laura shift beside him, her grip on his arm tightening imperceptibly. "All of it, for nothing."

"We don't know that," he answers sharply, stepping away from her as his gaze skims over the devastated horizon. Through the mist, Bill can just make out what appears to be a line of trees lining the crest of a high hill, their bare and gnarled branches reaching to the sky as if pleading for forgiveness.

Minutes pass between them in silence; and when Bill can stand the suffocating pall no longer, he turns instinctively to her – and is taken aback by how small and uncertain Laura looks, standing stiffly amongst the ruins, her beseeching eyes fixed unerringly on his.

He comes back to her in an instant and takes her chilled, pale hands in his, caresses them with his fingers, giving Laura his warmth, his strength. "We found Earth, together. And we're going to build a life here, together." Taking a hesitant step forward, he takes brings both of her hands to his lips before continuing quietly, "I think it's high time we built that cabin of yours."

He watches as she swallows hard, blinking back tears. "Together?"

"Together," he assures her before taking her in his arms and kissing her with all the promise he is determined to believe is still possible.

 

*fin.*


End file.
